Note: You can watch this teaching on CrossWalk’s YouTube channel.
There are some characters and stories in the Bible that are better known than others. Surely, the characters Adam and Eve and the story of their experience in the Garden of Eden are among the most familiar. The way I was first introduced to this story was probably as a little tike being read to from a picture Bible created for toddlers. I have no idea, actually, but growing up in a devoutly religious home, I’m sure this happened. The primary thing I learned about this story was that it described how sin entered what had been a perfectly good creation – this is the text from which the doctrine of Original Sin was born. The devil was involved, and so were bad choices – first by Eve, and then Adam. There was accountability with consequences. This was not a feel-good story. It was a curse that would stay with us forever, a problem we couldn’t solve on our own. The way I was taught, we could see our need for Jesus as the canceler of sins right there within the first three chapters of the Bible. Our need for Jesus showed up from the very beginning. I was in need of personal salvation from my sinful action, screwing up my own life. The story explained why there is pain and suffering in the world, and Jesus was the solution for everyone’s individual redemption. Original sin was equated with the story. We assumed it always was. But it wasn’t.
The very idea of original sin did not enter theological thought until St. Augustine came up with the metaphor over 300 years after Jesus lived. Let that sink in a minute. For the first 300+ years, the Christian message – the Good News – did not include the concept of original sin. It was a new idea not known or discussed by the original audience – the Jews – since Genesis was put down on a scroll.
I was shocked to learn that “sin management” in that way was not how the original audience understood it nor how its authors meant it. The story was written from a perspective that was historically informed. This account wasn’t written like a newspaper article, but rather a history book with an agenda – to tell the story of the people of Israel. Genesis was just part one of five – just the beginning (which is what “genesis” means). The writers were less interested in solving our personal sin issues, and much more interested in developing the story of a nation. The story found in Genesis 3 provided an allusion for what would come for all people in general, but specifically for the people of Israel.
The story rubs us a little wrong in our context. We can understand why God would not want Adam and Eve to eat from the Tree of Life, which would make them like gods in that they could not die. But knowledge? We love learning. We prize education. We inherited this passion for understanding our world in a scientific, academic way from our Greek ancestors who valued “knowing” above most other things. Greek thought is really the basis of Western thought, which is the way we think, and we generally don’t we’re doing it. Naturally, we wonder what was God’s beef about restricting knowledge about good and evil – something we want for our own children from day one?
The problem here has to do with obedience to the wise way of God. Adam and Eve’s disobedience was an attempt to jump the gun, to skip right to the end without regard to the process required for wisdom to take root. What they wanted wasn’t inherently bad – to be like God. The problem was how they were choosing to go about it, which, in this case, was to directly disobey the God that had provided everything – including their very lives.
When they ate of the forbidden fruit, their hearts didn’t stop beating, and yet they experienced an element of death in countless ways. Their innocence was lost. All of the things they were supposed to learn in time were circumvented, and that created issues going forward. God, in this light, isn’t an unreasonable deity wanting to restrict his kids from good things. God is a loving parent who appreciates the developmental stages of learning. This is why good, loving parents restrict all manner of things from their kids depending on their age and stage. What they are fed, what they are allowed to view, what they are allowed to say, who they are allowed to be around – there is a very long list of things that good parents restrict because their kid isn’t ready for it. Highly paid professional athletes and lottery winners sometimes find themselves struggling to make ends meet after their respective ships came in. How is that possible? A fortune given without wisdom and experience to guide its handling can be overwhelming and doom the person to failure. Even being given too much knowledge without the corresponding maturation process can be unhelpful. Adam and Eve’s disobedience was against the process directed by God. The problem wasn’t that they wanted to be like God, which is flattery.
They didn’t die, and God didn’t abandon them. But things did change. They got kicked out of the nest, and they found that life was going to be different than it had been. They would not be alone, but the way they interacted with God would change. This was the story of Israel. After the exodus from Egypt, they were given the Law and told to follow. If they obeyed, things would work out because the Law worked. If they didn’t obey, things didn’t go so well because they stepped away from their source of life. The journey of Israel is a cyclical saga of obedience, disobedience, repentance, and redemption. Just like with Adam and Eve, God held Israel accountable, consequences ensued, but grace was still present. This is the nature of God.
At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, right after his baptism into a new mode of life, he went camping in the wilderness to sort things out. During the journey, he faced three modes of temptation. All of the temptations were like the forbidden fruit – shortcuts to power, influence, success, etc. The difference was that Jesus didn’t fall to temptation. He chose maturity instead. He became the model for what Judaism was supposed to look like, a new Adam to follow.
How does your life story reflect Adam and Eve? When in your life have you taken the shortcut instead of opting for the process? When have you willfully disobeyed what you knew was right and true? How did that work out? How about right now? Is there anything you need to rethink in light of the story? You probably won’t die from your disobedience, but the consequences will suck. It’s not the threat of an angry God we’re avoiding, it’s the invitation of a loving God we are rejecting. Adam and Israel are cautionary tales. Jesus is an encouraging one. Which model do you choose to follow?
Nerd Out Notes…
Add these books to your reading list for reference on Genesis: Pete Enns, Genesis for Normal People by Pete Enns, which brings excellent academics with very approachable writing (he is fun to listen to and read); and In the Beginningby the great historian Karen Armstrong, which offers a Midrash approach to the texts.
From the Yale Anchor Bible Dictionary:
ADAM (PERSON) [Heb ʾādām (אָדָם)]. The Hebrew noun ʾādām generally denotes “human being,” “humankind.” The term is also used of the male individual in the Gen 2:4b–3:24 creation narrative.
A. Etymology and Use in the OT.
The etymology of the word is uncertain. ʾādām has often been associated with the root ʾdm “red.” Evidence cited in support of this association is widespread. In Akkadian, adamu means “blood, red garment,” and adamatu “black blood.” In Aramaic, ʾădām and other cognate terms refer to “blood,” while in biblical Hebrew ʾādōm means “red” (adj.), and the verb ʾādōm “to be red.” The Ugaritic verb ʾadm appears in several places in connection with bodily cleansing and anointing, and is usually translated “to rouge or redden.” It has been suggested that the use of ʾādām for “human” arises because of the reddish color of human skin.
The play on words in Gen 2:7 and 3:19 between ʾādām and ʾădāmâ “ground, earth,” has not been overlooked in the search for an etymology of the former. The name ʾādām is given to the human creature believed to have come from the ʾădāmâ. Of course, word plays in themselves do not necessarily indicate the etymology of a word. They could simply be used by writers or editors for literary effect. However, in this case the suggested etymological connection ought not to be ruled out. The Akkadian adamātu, “dark red earth” (used as a dye), suggests that the Hebrew ʾădāmâcould also be derived from the root ʾdm, “to be red.” ʾādām and ʾădāmâ could have been derived from the same root separately or the latter could have given rise to the former because of the similarity of skin tone to the color of the soil itself.
While we cannot draw any firm conclusions about the origins of biblical ʾādām, we should note that the word has cognates in other Northwest Semitic languages. ʾdm appears in both Ugaritic and Phoenician as “human being.” In the former, the high god El is called ʾab ʾadm, “the father of humankind.” The development of ʾdm for “humankind” would seem to have been confined to the Northwest Semitic domain since the Akkadian word for “human being” is awı̄lum/amı̄ (ē)lu. Thus, any etymological connection between ʾādām and either ʾdm “to be red,” or the root for “ground, earth,” would appear to be a localized Northwest Semitic phenomenon. The cognates for the latter two words range across the whole Semitic family.
B. ʾādām in Genesis 1–11.
ʾādām is used widely throughout the OT for “human-kind” or “human being.” It also occurs as the proper name of the first of the forefathers of the human family in 1 Chr 1:1. This may also be the case in Job 31:33, Hos 6:7, and Deut 4:32. In Genesis 1–5 the situation is more complex.
The use of ʾādām in J is concentrated in the primeval history of Genesis 2–11. In Gen 2:4b–4:25, the term refers to a specific male being. Elsewhere in the primeval narrative, it refers to humankind in general, even in Gen 8:21, which recalls the curse of Gen 3:17–19. In the context of Genesis 2–11, the individuality of the figure ʾādām in Gen 2:4b–3:24 must be seen as representative. No doubt the sources of the stories dictated in part the shape of the J narrative. ʾādām usually appears with the definite article hāʾādām (exceptions being 2:5, 2:20, and 3:17, the last two of which many scholars have amended).
While the individuality of the ʾādām figure in Gen 2:4b–3:24 is evident throughout the story, the restriction of ʾādāmto a male individual begins clearly only from 2:18. Thus the beginning of the story addresses the issue of human beings in general in the presence of Yahweh. The disobedience that follows is not to be blamed primarily on the woman in the garden, but is the responsibility of the whole human community, as the curses (3:14–19) reveal. In 4:1, 25, ʾādām is clearly used as the proper name of the father of Cain, Abel, and Seth. After these verses, J again employs the term in its broader context. We should note that the Septuagint and Vulgate begin to translate hāʾādāmas a proper name in Genesis 2:19.
In Gen 1:26–28, P uses ʾādām collectively as male (zākār) and female (nĕqēbâ). A single couple is not indicated here. ʾādām in its composite whole as male and female is the image of God. In Gen 5:3–5, however, P clearly understands ʾādām as an individual, i.e., the father of Seth and other children. The writer even records Adam’s age at death as 930 years. This transition in the P material cannot be properly understood apart from the intervening J narrative. Recent studies in the canonical shape of Genesis 1–11 (Childs IOTS, 148–50) have drawn attention to the interdependence of the J and P material and the theological import of their connection. Although Childs suggests that the J creation account plays a subsidiary role to that of P, he does point to the interconnection between creation (Genesis 1) and the history of humankind (Genesis 2). One should also note that, as the two chapters stand, they present a balanced picture of humanity. The creature made in the image of God, indeed invited into God’s presence, is also the creature primarily responsible for the subsequent alienation and enmity within creation. The two sides of humanity presented in Ps 8:4–7 are seen in reverse order in Genesis 1–3.
The closeness and yet enmity between humans and creation is highlighted by the play on words between ʾādāmeither as “human being” or the first male individual, and ʾădāmâ “ground, earth.” It is from ʾădāmâ that ʾādām is fashioned (Gen 2:7). The latter’s task is to till the ground (2:6). When ʾādām disobeys Yahweh, the ʾădāmâ is cursed (3:17–19). This in turn causes hardship for ʾādām. The end of ʾādām is again to return to the ʾădāmâ (parallel to ʿāpār“dust”). This wordplay continues through the flood story and is highlighted in 4:11–12 and 5:29. The link between ʾādām and ʾădāmâ in terms of sin and curse is only alleviated in 8:21–22. The dependence of fertility on human behavior, which remains wicked (8:21; 9:18–27; 11:1–9), is broken.
While the wordplay between ʾādām and ʾădāmâ is unique to the biblical material, the notion that humans are in part formed from earth or clay was widespread in the ancient Near East. We find it in the Sumerian account of the creation of humans where Enki, in order to fashion servants for the gods, calls on Mammu to “mix the heart of the clay that is over the abyss” (see Kramer 1961: 72–73). Likewise in the story of Atrahasis, Ea assists Mami, “the mistress of all the gods,” in fashioning humans by pinching off pieces of clay (Tablet I. 189–260; see Lambert and Millard 1969: 56–61; cf. ANET, 99–100).
C. ʾādām in Intertestamental Literature.
Little attention has been given to the ʾādām figure of Genesis 1–5 elsewhere in the OT. There are, however, possible allusions to ʾādām and the creation narrative in apocryphal literature (Sir 17:1; 49:16; Tob 8:6; Wis 2:23; 9:2; 10:1). Renewed interest in and speculation concerning ʾādām is found in pseudepigraphal, rabbinic, and gnostic texts. The Greek text Apocalypse of Moses is the most familiar of these. It tells of the life of Adam and Eve outside paradise, the death of Abel, the birth of Seth, Adam’s illness, and the journey of Eve and Seth to paradise in search of the oil of the Tree of Life which would cure Adam. Adam dies and his soul is taken into the presence of God by the Cherubim. Through the prayers of the angels, Adam is pardoned and taken back into the third heaven. While a good portion of this material overlaps with its Latin counterpart, The Life of Adam and Eve, the exact nature of the relationship between these two texts is difficult to determine (see OTP, 249–95 for a translation and discussion of both texts). See ADAM AND EVE, LIFE OF.
Emphasis in the Apocalypse of Moses focuses on two matters: (1) the nature of sin and the present human condition and (2) the hope of resurrection. The sin of Adam and Eve is their deliberate disobedience of God’s command (Apoc. Mos. 8:2; 10:2; 23:4, etc.). Eve is the one who initially succumbs to temptation and then dupes Adam into following her example (7:2–3; 9:2; 14:2; 21:1–6). Both lose the visible righteousness and glory of God which they had in the beginning (11:2; 20:1–2; 21:2). This sin brings hardship upon humanity. However, the image of God in which they were created is retained in their son Seth (9:3; 12:1), who is born according to the appointment of God (38:4).
While Adam’s death is a result of sin, it eventually provides an avenue to hope in resurrection. In his mercy God promises to pardon Adam and to raise him up to enjoy the benefits of paradise once again (28:4; 37:1–6; 41:3). This comes to fruition after his death. His former glory is restored (39:1–3) and the power of Satan is overcome, turning grief to joy. Just as others participate in the consequences of Adam’s sin, so there is hope that the “holy people,” those who adhere to the covenant, will share in his resurrection (13:3–5; 41:3).
Speculation in various noncanonical works also focuses on the figure of Adam. Philo stresses Adam’s perfection (Op 47:136–141), while various other works describe his honor and beauty above other living beings (e.g., Sir 49:16;Pesiq. Rab Kah 101). This beauty was lost with Adam’s sin (Gen. Rab. 11:2; 12:6). A motif of rabbinic thought is the enormous size of Adam, whose body stretches across the cosmos (e.g., Gen. Rab. 8:1; 21:3; 24:2; Pirqe R. El. 11; ʾAbot R. Nat. B8, etc.). Other passages note Adam’s great wisdom (Gen. Rab. 24:2; Pesiq. R. 115a).
D. Adam in the New Testament.
The most significant references to Adam in the NT are found in Rom 5:12–21 and 1 Cor 15:21–22, 45–49. Here Paul develops his Adam-Christ typology (on the debated origin of this typology, see discussion in Cranfield RomansICC, 269–95; Kasemann Romans HNT, 139–58; and Beker 1980). In Rom 5:12–21 Paul emphasizes the analogy between Adam, the one through whom sin and condemnation to death come into the world, and Christ, the one through whom life is offered to all. While this analogy presents Adam and Christ as those who shape the destiny of the world, the contrast is not to be ignored. The reign of grace and righteousness which comes through the second Adam confronts the reign of sin and death introduced through the first Adam and overcomes it.
In 1 Cor 15:21–22, the emphasis of the typology focuses on Christ as the one through whom resurrection to life comes. This theme is carried through in vv 45–49. In resurrection, one has a spiritual body, like that of the heavenly Christ, in contrast to the physical body which all humanity has in common with the earthly Adam. Paul draws on Gen 2:7 (LXX) as support. Here Paul could well be using the type of exegesis Philo exhibits in his discussion of Genesis 1:27 and 2:7, wherein he contrasts the heavenly, archetypal person with the historic Adam, made from dust (Legum Allegoriae, i.31). However, Paul understands these figures not as types but as eschatological and historical figures respectively (1 Cor 15:47).
Elsewhere in the NT, reference is made to Adam as the first generation of humanity (Jude 14 and Luke 3:38). In the latter text, he is foremost in the genealogy that leads to Jesus. In 1 Tim 2:13–14, the Eden story is used to justify the denial of teaching roles and positions of authority to women at that time. The writer stresses the prior creation of Adam, as well as the fact that Eve was the one deceived by the serpent. Adam is seen as completely innocent, while the woman in the story is labeled the transgressor. Such a line of argument is in keeping with early Jewish exegetical interpretations of Genesis 3 (e.g. Apoc. Mos. 15–21; Pirqe R. El. 1, 13).
Bibliography
Beker, J. C. 1980. Paul the Apostle: The Triumph of God in Life and Thought. Philadelphia.
Kramer, S. N. 1961. Sumerian Mythology. Rev. ed. New York.
Lambert, W. G., and Millard, A. R. 1969. Atrahasis: The Babylonian Story of the Flood. Oxford.
Niditch, S. 1983. The Cosmic Adam: Man as Mediator in Rabbinic Literature. JJS 34: 137–46.
Sharp, J. L. 1973. Second Adam in the Apocalypse of Moses. CBQ 35: 35–46.
Wallace, H. N. 1985. The Eden Narrative. HSM 32. Atlanta.
Westermann, C. 1984. Genesis 1–11. Trans. J. Scullion. London.
EVE (PERSON) [Heb ḥawwâ (חַוָּה)]. Eve, the first woman, is an enigmatic figure. Apart from Genesis 2–4, she is mentioned very rarely in biblical material and yet she has played an important part in theological discussion and debate over gender roles in society throughout the postbiblical period (Pagels 1988). The origins of both the name and the figure have been the subject of wide-ranging scholarly debate.
A. The Name “Eve”
The woman in the garden of Eden story (Gen 2:4b–3:24) is given the name ḥawwâ, “Eve,” in Gen 3:20. This verse sits awkwardly in the text and many scholars assume a different recension of the story is used here from that in Gen 2:23 where she is called ʾiššâ, “woman.” Such a doublet could, however, arise from the oral tradition behind the narrative. The origin of the name ḥawwâ is uncertain. In the story the woman is called ḥawwâ because she is the “mother of all living (ḥay).” This suggests a derivation from the root ḥyh, “to live,” but no immediate connection can be sustained. J’s etymology is based solely on a wordplay. Note that the LXX translates ḥawwâ by zōē, “life,” in 3:20. Evidence from Ugaritic and Phoenician suggest another ancient word “to live,” ḥwy from which ḥawwâ could be derived. If this is the case, then the name itself is either borrowed or is an ancient traditional name.
The expression “mother of all living” has suggested to some a connection between Eve and various ANE mother goddesses. The Akkadian goddess Mami is called bēlet kala ilī, “mistress of all the gods,” and baniat awīlūti, “creatress of humanity” (Atrahasis 1. 188–260). Ugaritic texts refer to Asherah as qnyt.ʾilm, “creatress of the gods,” and mšnqt.ʾilm, “nurse of the gods,” in her role as mother goddess. A Carthaginian devotional text (KAI 89) dated to the 3d or 2d century b.c.e. contains the word ḥwt, which could be related to Hebrew ḥawwâ. It begins rbt ḥwt ʾlt mlkt. ḥwt could be the name of a female deity or an epithet of a goddess, possibly Asherah or Tannit. These two divine names can be identified as referring to the one figure. Of all the goddesses, she is most frequently given the titles rbt, “lady,” and ʾlt, “goddess.” If ḥwt is derived from a word for “life” or “to live” it is a fitting epithet for the mother goddess. These points suggest that the name given to the woman in Gen 3:20 could be a derivative of a title for the Canaanite mother goddess or at least an allusion to her.
Some scholars have pointed to the similarity of the name ḥawwâ to the Aramaic word ḥewyāʾ, “serpent.” In early Aramaic the word for “serpent” appears to be ḥwh. They have proposed that ḥawwâ was originally the name of an underworld goddess or that in an earlier version of Genesis 3 Eve and the serpent were identical. While this is conjectural, the possible connection of ḥawwâ to a word for “serpent” should not be overlooked. There is some tentative evidence suggesting a connection between the mother goddess Asherah/Tannit and serpents although the exact nature of the connection remains obscure. Both are strongly associated with fertility themes.
From this discussion it could be suggested that the name ḥawwâ in Gen 3:20 is meant to allude to the great goddess Asherah. The designation of Eve as the “mother of all living,” the presence of the motif of fertility, and the associations with the serpent and sacred trees all have possible counterparts in mythic material in which Asherah is mentioned. If such an allusion is intended, then we should note that the circumstances of the Gen 2:4b–3:24 narrative are the exact reversal of what one might expect in a story about the mother goddess. Rather than productivity and fertility, the outcome in the story in Genesis is death, sterility, and hardship (Gen 3:14–19). Even the “mother of all living” is to suffer in childbirth. The interaction between Eve and the serpent, also a symbol of fertility, ultimately leads to death. The man’s toil with the ground yields reward only at the price of pain and sweat. Thus Gen 2:4b–3:24 would seem to embrace a polemic against fertility themes of the Canaanite cult. This polemic, however, has been reworked by J so that now it forms part of the background of the story.
B. Theological Considerations
In Gen 2:20 it is stated that Eve is created to be an ʿēzer kĕnegdô, “a helper fit for him” (RSV). This expression has often been seen to indicate the subordination of Eve to Adam and hence generally of women to men in societal and family life. However, the word ʿēzer, “helper,” does not imply subordination. It can be used to refer to a superior person or even to God, e.g., Ps 146:5. The phrase ʿēzer kĕnegdô is best understood as meaning “a companion corresponding to him.” The fact that Eve is created second from one of the man’s ribs and that she is tempted and submits first have also been used to argue for either the superiority of men over women or of women over men. The former position has been strongly supported historically in the traditions of Judaism (e.g., Gen. Rab. 18.2), Islam (Al-Baghawi, Mishkat al-Masabih), and Christianity. The only references to Eve in the NT, 2 Cor 11:3 and 1 Tim 2:11–15, both develop this line. The argument can be traced to the present day. The latter position, arguing for the superiority of women over men, has been voiced more strongly recently but it had its early proponents, e.g., in the Talmud (Sanhedrin, 39a). In either case the arguments depend more on the presuppositions of the interpreters than on what the text of Gen 2:4b–3:24 states explicitly. The text in its original form is concerned about the potential for intimacy in the divine-human relationship and in human relationships in light of the alienation that exists in the world. The subordination of Eve to her husband (Gen 3:16) clearly stands as one of the curses of a broken creation.
Bibliography
Heller, J. 1958. Der Name Eva. AcOr 26: 636–56.
Joines, K. R. 1974. Serpent Symbolism in the Old Testament. Haddonfield, N.J.
Kikawada, I. M. 1972. Two Notes on Eve. JBL 91: 33–37.
Pagels, E. 1988. Adam, Eve and the Serpent. London.
Phipps, W. E. 1976. Adam’s Rib: Bone of Contention. TToday 33: 263–73.
Trible, P. 1978. Pp. 72–143 in God and Rhetoric of Sexuality. Philadelphia.
Wallace, H. N. 1985. The Eden Narrative. HSM 32. Atlanta.
Williams, A. J. 1977. The Relationship of Genesis 3:20 to the Serpent. ZAW 89: 357–74.
Howard N. Wallace